Forever Gone Dreams of Storms
by your-true-strength
Summary: Rated for sexual themes and some angst. Tamaki married another woman. But he still can't get Haruhi off his mind. And now… the appearance of a certain little 5-year-old might complicate things all the more. Implied established relationship. TamaHaru, in the end, I SWEAR. WIP. Some original characters as plot-fillers.
1. Chapter 1

When he closed his eyes, he still saw her.

There had been years between them, so much time since he had last held her, had last felt the feel of her skin against his own, had last seen her with his true eyes, and not with the ones only available to his memories, and yet Tamaki could still remember every moment of the night they had shared.

It had started with a thunderstorm, and an equally terrifying argument. Haruhi was shaking, so scared from the sounds that echoed through the walls of the mansion, but also shivering with the last remnants of spoken blows. Tamaki held her on his bed, smoothly running his hand up and down her back, looking down at her. She was clinging, one hand gripping tightly at his shirt, coiled some in the fabric as though clinging to a lifeboat, but she couldn't look up at him. She was still too mad. He watched in silence as her light brown lashes fluttered every so often, those moments when they flashed down, pressing against her cheek with each clap of thunder overheard. Those moments, Tamaki would hug her just a bit tighter, pause his tender touches to her back, and leave a kiss against her forehead. Then the moment of noisy weather would still for another few minutes, and he resumed his gentle caress.

"…You're really going to leave."

Her voice surprised him. The storm was still going, and she hadn't spoken since the first boom had so abruptly stopped the argument. After all, Tamaki didn't have the heart to argue with her when she was so scared, only to hold her, and Haruhi felt like her energy had been sapped away. First she had a fight with her boyfriend, with the man she had first felt a taste of love for, and then the weather had rudely jumped in… She hadn't been exactly in the mood to talk. But the statement had come from her lips nonetheless, after several minutes. A statement was exactly what it was; Haruhi hadn't phrased it as a question. Why should she? They both knew it was the truth this time.

"You know I have to," he finally answered, hating the way his voice sounded, so firm and yet so withered, all at once.

"No. No, you don't have to," Haruhi argued, then paused, flinching and clinging a little more tightly to him as another thunderbolt made its noisy entrance into the setting.

"Haruhi—"

"No! Tamaki! Just tell her no! We've been through this all before! You can't! You…You just can't."

Her voice had so many qualities to it that Tamaki normally loved: a seeming monotone that concealed so much expressive, open grace that he couldn't quite put to words. But those words… Those words were different, and they showed him such different things than usual. Anger. Desperation. A sort of stubborn half-sob at the end that made the blond feel like his heart was literally ripping in two.

There was a moment of quiet. A blessing, that no sounds were from the environment but the steady fall of rain, but a curse that the world between the couple was so eerily silent.

"I'm sorry," the Host Club King finally said, the words hanging in the air. Heavy, they felt, and his throat was still a little scratchy, just a little raw from crying before… and he knew he'd cry again and again, before the night was through.

The brunette in his arms made a sound that was somewhere between a groan of annoyance and a whimper, this time not because of any sort of weather phenomena. At least, no weather outside; the atmosphere raging between them was a different thing altogether. The hand that had wound its way into such a tight burrow on Tamaki's shirt loosened, finally wiggled loose, and slowly traced shaking fingertips up his chest, resting against the bare skin just above the wrinkled collar. Silk, that shirt, but Haruhi felt like Tamaki's skin was smoother, softer, and he felt the same of even the slight touch of her small, strong, but so delicate hands.

When she raised her gaze to his, and brown eyes met violet, Tamaki felt like his heart would stop for the rest of all time, and that would've been fine with him. Better for it to stop now, like this, than to ever beat again without her.

Her eyes shifted just a little, back and forth, as though reading something in his. What more could be said? There weren't enough words in any language. Still, somehow, the female Host managed to find three.

"I love you."

It was Tamaki's turn to make an indescribable sound. His was something between a laugh and a cry… so much crying today. Too much.

"I love you, too. You know I always have."

Haruhi sighed, and Tamaki could feel her breath in that exhale, sending tendrils of heat over his throat and chin, and then he could feel her lips as she was leaning up to press her lips to his.

The kiss was saying even more than their eyes had. Haruhi was still shaking, and when thunder picked up again, she only kissed him harder, as though trying to bury her fear against him. He was glad to kiss back, the hands that had been rubbing her back soon moving to hold her close. He had to break for air, and words escaped them both in that short cessation.

"…I'm sorry…"

"Shh… Just… kissing…"

"Oh. Yes. …Haruhi."

And lips met again.

Haruhi was the one making most of the initiations in this kiss, something that Tamaki wasn't used to but wasn't objecting to, either. She pressed her smaller body against his, as though hoping to meld with him, and he opened his mouth when an eager tongue found a dance partner. If they broke for words now, it was only for one another's names, otherwise, simply sounds like gasps or little moans or whimpers.

The storm picked up pace, and Haruhi's ministrations had their own plans for velocity. She crept those hands—such wonderful, sweet hands—up that silk shirt, and Tamaki was certain his skin was on fire. He broke the kiss and stared at her, but she didn't look away from her own fingers as she found those expensive little buttons, undoing each one.

Tamaki removed one of his own hands from her back, resting it atop hers. He didn't push her away, merely stopped her for a moment. That caught her attention, and brown eyes looked upwards again. Again, unspoken questions. Both of them had planned on saving this moment for a wedding night… but they had never planned on the other things that were surrounding them now. Violet eyes asked so much, all those conversations about gentlemen and politeness and "we're still in school and there's a lot of risk and I would never want to do anything to challenge the situation and that's okay to want to wait and I still love you and—"

Instead, Tamaki only said one thing. "Will you regret this?"

"No." Her answer came without hesitation, her voice still shaking from so much, but those chocolate eyes determined as ever.

Tamaki could still remember those eyes. They had shifted down again, and fingers finished with buttons and soon there was so much skin and kissing and repetitive "I love you"s and a wonderful, soft heat and more kisses and passion and maybe they finally could melt together into one and Haruhi didn't even fear that storm for one moment more. She was safe and his and though morning would tear them apart, they had each other and it was so, so perfect, even if it was bittersweet.

When he closed his eyes, he still saw her.

It was the only time he could see her now. He had been pulled away by his new wife to America, and he hadn't been allowed to keep contact with Ouran or any of its students. Especially not Haruhi, not another woman—Mrs. Mayumi Suoh was a jealous person.

It wasn't that Mayumi was cruel, or that she wasn't pretty. She was sweet, and well-kept, a petite but still curvy redhead with hazel eyes, a fondness for boating, and a well-respected family. And Tamaki could find reasons to love her; she did love him, even if the marriage had been arranged. But he couldn't be _in love _with her. Haruhi Fujioka, simple, common, sweet, beautiful Haruhi Fujioka would always hold the prince-like man's heart. Tamaki gave Mayumi smiles and his affection and time, and she deserved happiness, but he couldn't give away what was already given.

And try as he might to block the image out, every time he closed his eyes, he still saw Haruhi. It was enough to drive him mad. Christian though never very devout, he prayed more and more, silently, every day. _Please. Just let me forget her and move on. I can't keep missing her like this. And please… Please let her be happy without me. _

How long had it been now? Tamaki barely noticed the changes in his own appearance over the years. His features were still quite good-looking, he knew—Mayumi was always telling him, and pouting when every girl they saw in public was pointing it out, too—though they had matured. …Six years. That wasn't that long, not really. And the image in his mind, that brown-haired, brown-eyed girl, never changed a bit.

"…Tamaki?"

The blond hadn't realized he had been staring in the mirror. What a peculiar thing to do. He looked over to his wife. "Yes, Mayumi, my sweet?" he answered, broken from his reverie and giving her a smile.

He blinked. Haruhi's face. And then open eyes again, and back to reality.

"…Would you mind going out to market?" the red-head asked, smiling sweetly back and tilting her head to the side. "I know we can have runs from servants, but they never manage to find those little cakes you pick up for me," she went on, pouting some.

Tamaki laughed at that, reaching to comb his fingers through her bangs. "Only because they seem to think more expensive means better~. You have to pick out the commoner's ones, from the farmer's market," he explained for perhaps the millionth time, though not annoyed.

"Sure. I'll be back later on. I can pick up some other treats, too."


	2. Chapter 2

The market was a very nice place that day. The sun was shining, though the weather was not too hot and not too cold. Tamaki did his best to enjoy it. After all, dwelling on his lost girl—his beautiful, wonderful lost girl—was only slowly eating away at his sanity. He parked the car some distance away, deciding to walk from the parking garage to the street lined with the many different stalls for the farmer's market. So many colors from the produce and the smells from cakes and breads—he would be sure to pick up some of Mayumi's favorites—and other little things, too. One young man was selling fresh-made pasta, and Tamaki couldn't help chuckling as the happy-go-lucky man was trying to convince a more stern-looking blond that no, really, he should definitely buy the campanelle today and forego the cheaper plain spaghetti from that other stall or surely he would get a stomachache. Tamaki didn't mean to pry, but it seemed an interesting, if plain, conversation.

It was still rather early in the day, so the majority of the market-goers were adults rather than school-age children. A few mothers walked with toddlers on their hips or in those little slings that Tamaki had seen so prevalently in the area. He stopped to look at a little trinket stand—small glass ornaments, for necklaces or simple shadowboxes, he supposed—around the same time one of the mother's with a sling on her back was pausing to look, too. The baby in the sling couldn't have been more than a few months old, and regarded Tamaki with interested and wide eyes. The blond chuckled again in amusement, waving his fingers and shrugging his shoulders upwards in that little way people so often did when talking to babies or cute things, his voice taking that softer and higher tone: "Hi there, little one~." The baby blinked, but then smiled widely, and Tamaki made a few friendly but silly faces to illicit a giggle.

The woman turned to look over her shoulder when she heard her baby making noises, and she quickly offered the attractive man a smile. "Oh, did you make a friend?" she asked her baby, her own voice taking that so-clichéd but common tone.

Tamaki reached out towards the baby—the woman was reacting rather positively, and a tiny hand was already searching for the blond—and let the little guy take a hold of his finger. "He's a very handsome little fellow~" he cooed. He let the baby keep his grasp, but looked back towards the young mother. "How old is he?"

"He'll be eight months on Tuesday," she gladly explained, turning just so that she could watch on with pride.

Tamaki smiled at her. "Really? Just eight months ago you were having him? You look lovely," he commented truthfully. Some habits never really died; he couldn't just turn off the flirting. "But then, a mother is always beautiful, I think."

The woman blushed madly, something Tamaki was all too used to. "Well, you're a charmer, aren't you?" she remarked, then turned her sideways gaze back to the baby. "…And what about you? Do you have any children? You seem good with them," she went on to say.

It was Tamaki's turn to blush. "Ah, no. I'm married, but… well, we're not exactly ready for that yet," he said. That wasn't a total lie… in all honesty, Tamaki _did _want children—as did his grandmother want a great-grandchild—but Mayumi had usually said to wait on the idea. Tamaki had his suppositions about that, though he didn't voice them. It seemed to him, Mrs. Mayumi Suoh was a little vain in regards to how her body would look with a pregnancy, not to mention a little concerned that Tamaki might leave her side if she was no longer attractive to him. That of course, wasn't one bit true. Tamaki was loyal, even if he couldn't give her his heart.

"I see…" the woman said, giving a little nod. Of course, she could have no idea about the blond man's true situation, and she reached to gently poke her son's thigh. "Wave bye-bye, sweetheart, to the nice man~"

The little one only gave Tamaki a big grin, but he figured that was enough. He waved back.

He went back to walking, his eyes catching a sunglasses stand. It had become a little sort of bad habit of his, buying sunglasses from "commoner's markets," something that Mayumi didn't understand but let him indulge in. After all, it wasn't as if they couldn't afford it. He reached to pick up a pair, looking at it with interest and trying to push off the somewhat achy feeling from the conversation with the young mother, when he felt a little hand brush against his knee.

He looked down, spotting a little girl looking up at him. She had apparently been hiding underneath the cloth that was covering the sunglasses stand. She couldn't have been more than five or six, and her tiny hands gripped to his pant legs for dear life. He chuckled as he looked down at her. "Well. Hello, sweetheart. Where did you come from?" he asked. He looked up a moment, searching for a mother or father or something, anyone who looked like her and maybe also like they were looking for a child. Dark blue eyes—nearly purple with their intensity—stared up at Tamaki as though the answers to all her little-kid questions rested with this man whose legs she cleaved to.

She didn't say anything, and Tamaki was confused, looking down at her, then around, then down at her again, then towards the sunglasses stands' vendor. He pointed down towards the girl hugging his legs. "Um… Is this yours?" he asked, smiling.

The vendor blinked, standing from his chair to see over the display and catching the little girl in his line of sight. He shook his head, looking just as puzzled as Tamaki. "Uh…. No. Where'd she come from?"

Oh. Not good then. A lost little kid was _definitely _not a good thing. "…Can you make an announcement or something? Whoever lost her must be worried sick," he asked. The man nodded, gesturing over another vendor to spread the message.

Tamaki looked down at her. "Don't worry, we'll find your mom," he said. The girl blinked, tilting her head to the side. Maybe… Maybe she didn't speak English? He tried to think of what he might say to reassure her, but she didn't seem to need any more reassurance than to cling to the blond's legs. He tried to think next of what language he _might _try… he spoke three, so perhaps…?

There didn't seem to be a need for that though; soon a voice rang through the crowds of market goers. "Kimiko? Kimiko, oh my God, where did you-?!"

Tamaki felt like his heart leaped into his chest.

"Okaasan~!" the little girl chirped, only that moment hesitantly letting go of the blond's legs.

She had answered in Japanese.

A frantic voice floated to the two, and Tamaki nearly fell over when a mother, in a blur of concern for her daughter, pushed past the blond man. "Kimiko! Good Lord, you scared me!"

Tamaki watched the woman, who fussed over the little girl and barely noticed the blond that had been standing near her. He reached a hand to steady himself on the table of the sunglasses stand.

He felt like his knees would give out beneath them.

The mother was giving little kisses to the girl now, still fussing in that maternal way, and the girl—Kimiko, Tamaki presumed—giggled, not seeming to grasp the gravity of the situation.

"Oh my gosh," the mother said, clasping her daughter's hand in her own as she stood up, switching seamlessly into English. "Thank you so much for finding her," she thanked the vendor, who nodded and smiled with relief. The announcement wouldn't be necessary. The mother started to finally turn to acknowledge the blond man, speaking all the while. "I hope she wasn't any trou—"

Tamaki couldn't find the strength to speak, but for a single word:

"Haruhi."


	3. Chapter 3

Haruhi was there, in front of him, and damn, she looked good. Her brown eyes widened and she muttered her own response of "….Tamaki…?" as she looked back to the blond, and Tamaki was thankful for that, because after all, he couldn't seem to find a voice to speak right at that moment, anyway. She shook her head as though in disbelief, while the little girl at her feet clung to her legs and smiled back up towards the male. "How did you… you're here. You're in America," she said, her voice shaking just a little bit.

The blond swallowed the lump he hadn't realized was forming in his throat and somehow struggled to find his voice. "Yeah. You're here… too… you look great," he said, his voice feeling as though it was coming from faraway. It felt so weak in his throat, but his ears picked it up as though it was confident… how strange. "You're growing your hair."

Such trivial conversation... It felt awkward, but also so wonderful that Tamaki's hand was still resting on the edge of the sunglasses stand to keep himself from falling over. The girl tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear as she nodded. "Mhm. Kimiko likes to play with it."

Tamaki blinked, as though remembering the little girl was there all of a sudden. His eyes floated down to her, and she giggled and hugged her mother's legs a little tighter as she waved. Tamaki's eyes were wide with wonder. He knelt down, reaching out a hand to the girl. "Kimiko. That's a very pretty name. And a very pretty girl," he said, holding a hand out towards her. His heart felt so tight. "How… How old is she?" Tamaki knew that _Haruhi _knew exactly what was on his mind. The girl's age, her violet eyes… He didn't know which thought filled him with more emotion: that this could be his daughter… or that she was fathered by another. Both had very different types of hurt attached to them…

"She's almost six," Haruhi said, as the little girl laughed and gladly ran to hug the blond. Tamaki choked out a shuddering sob as she hugged him; she was not shy at all. Well, she had chosen his legs to cling to when she had been lost after all. Tamaki's mind raced, and his heart was leaping in his chest madly. Almost six… giving time for a pregnancy, that would mean…

He still hugged the girl, who was snuggling against him without a seeming care in the world, but his eyes looked up to Haruhi. Standing tall and strong as ever in every respect but one: her brown eyes were glimmering threatening to overflow right then and there. He swallowed another lump in his throat. "She's… she's beautiful."

Haruhi laughed, a nervous sound, hiding any chance of a sob, though it was clearly there, and looked down for a beat, taking a breath to regain her composure. Then she knelt down, too, running fingers through her daughter's dark hair. "Yes. Yes, she is." Her eyes connected with his, and the look she gave him burned straight through his core, somehow slowly and quickly all at once.

He reached for her, one hand going for the woman's and gripping to her fingers like drug addict to a long-awaited fix, though his other held Kimiko still. "You… You never told me."

"I never had the chance."

"I… Oh."

Of course, Tamaki knew all that. The fight they had before that beautiful time they had made love was the last time they had spoken about him leaving. And then that the next morning, awakening to their bodies cuddled close, neither of them had wanted to say a word about the impending departure. And he hadn't been allowed to see her, to contact her or any of the other hosts for that matter…

"She's healthy. If you wanted to know."

Tamaki nodded slowly, giving a squeeze to Haruhi's hands then. She returned the gesture, that much being more than they could say in words right at that moment. "I'm… very glad. And you? How was… Oh, Haruhi, it must've been so… difficult… alone…"

Haruhi, ever the responsible, reasonable girl that he had so fallen in love with, shook her head, then standing, giving a tug to the other's hand to bring him to his feet again. He was still certain he might fall over at any moment, but she somehow steadied him, and she didn't let go. "She was an easy pregnancy, actually. Labor was rather… Well, terrifying…" She quickly put on a smile when his eyes widened at that news, and chuckled some as she shook her head. "…It's okay. I'm okay. She's okay. And… you're here."

Tamaki wanted to pull her against himself, to kiss her maddeningly, to melt into her embrace and never, ever let go again. He wanted to hug Kimiko, give her little kisses on the cheeks and all over her cute little face. He instead let out a shuddering, choked back sob. "I am. I'm here," he said, knowing full well he would never be able to let her—or their daughter—go. He looked down to the little girl, then picked her up, hugging her close all at once. "You're so cute! So beautiful and cute little Kimiko!"

Haruhi rolled her eyes, though the brown orbs were filled with tears, and playfully hit the blond on the shoulder. "Don't scare her now!" she chided, though the little girl was laughing with excitement at being so coddled.

Tamaki shook his head. "How could I? _She _found _me!" _He reached for Haruhi again, and the woman let out a laugh and stepped into his embraced as he hugged them both.

Haruhi was choking back tears herself. "Tamaki. Tamaki, you're shaking," she muttered.

The blond laughed again. "I just… I'm just so very…I'm happy. I missed you, and she's so beautiful and you… you're…"

Suddenly, he felt like an arrow struck him straight through the chest. He had reached again for one of Haruhi's hands, and once clasping with it this time, had felt something unmistakable… the feel of a ring on her finger.

He was still holding Kimiko, but he slowly took a step back, holding that same hand and lifting it a little, looking at it in disbelief. "You're… You're…" he choked out slowly.

The brunette blushed deeply, her expression suddenly dropping drastically. She looked down at her own hand in confusion, too, as though just noticing what was going on, and her second hand rose to run over the thin band there. "Ah…. Yes…

I'm engaged."


	4. Chapter 4

Time had frozen for all of an instant, but that short time seemed an eternity to Tamaki. Engaged? Of course. Of course, she would be engaged, wouldn't she? She was so… wonderful, so perfect, so utterly _Haruhi _that someone had been bound to scoop her up and away and…

He shouldn't really mind so much. He… He was married, after all.

The various emotions played on his face so quickly: surprise, hurt, sadness… acceptance, though the sadness didn't exactly go away. He cleared his throat with a cough and shifted Kimiko on his side as he looked back to Haruhi. He tok a moment, just looking at her, gathering his thoughts—something that, for him, was rather rare. Tamaki usually had always been one to put his feelings outright.

_But then, who are you kidding? _he thought to himself with some dismay. _You never mention the thoughts about Haruhi that keep you dreaming of her every night, never mention the memories and wishes that play out every time you close your eyes. You kept that much secret… So maybe you don't quite wear your heart on your sleeve as much as you once did before. _

"Well…. Congratulations," he said slowly, forcing a smile. Oh, God, how he hoped that she couldn't see through that smile, even though she always could. Please, just this once, let Haruhi's ability to read Tamaki be put on hold. "There's… Well… I want to… to see her," he went on, absentmindedly reaching for and fiddling with Kimiko's hand. The little girl didn't seem to mind. _And you. I want to see you, too, but if another has your heart… I left. I have no right to it. _

Haruhi nodded, and if she did sense the factitiousness in Tamaki's gaze, she wasn't bringing it up. At least, not in front of Kimiko. "I would love that," she said, smiling back to him. There. In her eyes. Was her smile false, too? "I never meant to keep her from you. I…" She blushed some as she looked away, and it was all the blond could do not to pull her into his arms again. "…I have shown her your picture before. I told her that you… That you were her father. I never kept that from her. I'll admit, my father wasn't exactly happy with anything when he found out, either." Tamaki flinched; the memory of Ranka's wrath was another all-too-vivid one. "…But I told him I thought it was best that Kimiko not be lied to."

"I… thank you. For that," Tamaki said slowly, then turned his attention to the girl in his arms again, the one who had decided to rest her head against his shoulder and started playing with the buttons near his collar. He chuckled, lifting her hand from its quiet playing and giving it a little kiss. "Sweet little princess… Maybe that's why you ran to me? You recognized your… Papa?" The word nearly sent him into another crying fit to say, but he smiled a bit at the same time.

Kimiko nodded, answering by hugging him a little tighter, a simple gesture that was internally melting all of Tamaki's being. "…Otousan. Papa," she echoed, then closing her eyes and insisting on playing with his buttons again.

Haruhi and Tamaki both couldn't help the little laugh at that, and Tamaki let his gaze rise back to her. "And what about… " he started, his eyes drifting towards the ring on her finger again. She followed his gaze, and slipped the hand behind her own back, blushing as though caught at doing something bad. "…He's good to her? He's accepting and everything of Kimiko and… and he's good to you?"

Haruhi swallowed, and Tamaki wasn't sure how to react to the smile she gave him then. "He… is. He always has been, to the both of us. And I mentioned, if we ever had contact with you, that I… I want you to be part of Kimiko's life. I know _you _want to be part of her life. And he… he said that makes sense," she explained. She couldn't seem to look at him directly, her eyes flitting about as she had spoken. When she finished, she gave another smile and managed to look to him again. "Ah. We can't just keep talking in the middle of the market, can we? Do you want to… go have a seat?" She gestured over towards some nearby benches.

Tamaki muttered his agreement, shifting once more with Kimiko on his hip. "Sure. I think she's settling down for a nap anyway," he said, smiling again.

"It is about her nap time. And she had all the added excitement of meeting her father today… She's probably pretty exhausted."

They sat, and though the bench was small, Tamaki ached to be closer to her. Every little part of him longed to not just be holding Kimiko, but to be holding Haruhi, too, holding their daughter together, making up for all the time he was gone, promising to take care of her extra, extra well for several long years to come…

But that would be someone else's job now.

"So…" Haruhi started, thankfully taking the initiative for an awkward conversation. "How's Mayumi?"

"She's… fine."

How was Tamaki supposed to answer that? 'Oh, she's fine, except Grandmother didn't exactly get what she paid for because Mayumi doesn't want to give her any more heirs.' 'Oh, yeah, she's wonderful, but I want you, and I always have.' 'She's a good wife and I can love her but never like I love you.' None of those would have exactly worked.

He cleared his throat again and went on. "I was out to get some cakes for her at market she likes. I didn't see any in though; I think that vendor's away this time," he said instead. There. Best to speak of more trivial things.

"I see," Haruhi said. Her hands were clasped on her lap now, one constantly fretting over the band on her finger, which she stared at with an expression that Tamaki couldn't quite read. "Did you two… I mean…" There was a pause, and Haruhi looked up to give him another little smile, one that maybe… just maybe… held about as little truth as his own had. "Have any kids? The two of you, I mean."

"No," Tamaki answered, the word almost coming out too fast, almost angry. Yet… What was that then, when he had said that? Had Haruhi… sighed? If so, why? Almost with… relief. Oh, but surely Tamaki was letting his imagination get the better of him, then. "Mayumi… Mayumi worries about weight gain," he admitted with a bit of a shrug.

Haruhi's eyes widened a moment, a brown eyebrow raising some. "Oh? A little vain, isn't it?" She then shook her head, dismissing her own words. "No. I'm sorry, that wasn't right of me to say. I'm sure she has all manner of reasons, and that's your business anyway." Haruhi tried to offer him a smile, then reached over. The blond thought for a moment that she would cup his cheek, but then she had instead tucked some of Kimiko's hair aside. The little girl was sleeping now, oblivious to the conversation and attached emotions that surrounded her. "You could always reassure her it comes off a little easier than you might think. And it's definitely worth it."

Tamaki nodded slowly. "Yeah… I could do that," he answered, then raising one hand to Haruhi's. He caught that hand in his own, a gesture that reminded him of a night they had spent together. "You never… regretted it?" he said, barely a whisper.

"Not one moment," Haruhi whispered back, with no hesitation. She let him keep hold of her hand, and he was thankful. "It was a lot of hard work, and finishing school was tough, but I managed. And I even had help from… Well, from my fiancé." The word stabbed Tamaki like a million swords, but he kept quiet, kept her hand in his. "His, uh…. Business. Offered to handle almost all of the costs of things. I guess being at Ouran, getting to know a few more wealthy people, it had some… advantages. Not that I let him provide all the money, of course! I worked through a lot of it."

Tamaki let out the slightest of laughs at that: a cold, empty laugh that hurt almost as much to hear as it did to create. "I wouldn't doubt that. You've always been strong. Self-sufficient." Another awkward, emotion-filled pause. "I… I can have your contact information?"

Haruhi blinked as though in surprise, and then nodded, pulling away from his touch. His hand ached as the space where hers had once been began to cool. "Right. And I'll have yours, and…" She was pulling a small notepad from her pocket and scribbling away quickly, and Tamaki watched her intently. "…And…" She looked up at him a moment, apology so evident in her brown eyes. "…If Mayumi needs to talk about anything, I'd be happy to reassure her, too. I really hope that this doesn't…. That you two don't end up fighting on account of this."

Another fake smile. "Oh, Haruhi. You always worry so much. I'm sure everything will be alright." _Right. And tomorrow, I'll grow wings and learn to fly. _He read off his own contact information, letting her write it all down since Kimiko was still sleeping in his arms. The slight weight of the girl there was an aching reminder—he couldn't hold her forever. Or even Haruhi. He'd have to let the both of them go, and soon. He had a wife to go home to, and she, a fiancé.

No sooner had this fear of leaving crossed his mind then a vehicle was pulling up rather close by. It was a nice looking car, and the driver that stepped out was clearly a professional. He gave a polite bow towards Haruhi, and spoke with an even tone in her native Japanese. "Miss Fujioka, were you two ready to go?" he asked.

Haruhi nodded. "Mhm. Just a second," she said, then standing. Tamaki watched her every move, drinking in her image. It wouldn't be the last time he saw her, not anymore, not now that he knew of Kimiko, but… still…

She turned her attention to the both of them, folding and tucking away her contact information into Tamaki's front shirt-pocket. The blond nearly shuddered at the gesture, however simple it had been. She then leaned forward, presumably to pick up the sleeping girl, and Tamaki shifted to assist in passing her over.

Then, making the blond nearly die right on the spot, she pressed a kiss to his cheek. He may have let out a little whimper in the instant when he felt her lips against his skin, so many flashbacks of the most beautiful moment in his life, that fateful night they had created the girl now sleeping in his arms, passing over his mental gaze.

But then, the little kiss was pulled away, ended, killed, and Haruhi was looking back to him, Kimiko now in her arms instead of his. The blond wrapped his arms around himself, trying to keep hold of the memory of the gentle heat of his daughter, now out of his grasp.

Haruhi gave Tamaki another smile. Her eyes looked so sad again, and Tamaki longed to take all that sadness away. But it wasn't something he had the capability of doing.

"I'll… call you then. Or you me. And we'll set something up?" she asked.

Such a simple question, but it meant so much. "Yes. Yes, I'll call."

And for the second time in all too short of a time—What was five years? Everything he ever felt for Haruhi was still there, as strong as before, if not stronger, but he could do _nothing_—he watched her walk away.

The driver opened her door, and first the love of Tamaki's life spent a couple moments getting Kimiko in, safely buckling her up in her seat. Tamaki watched, the entire thing like a horrible tragedy. He could say something, but what good would it do? The actors would still play their parts.

Haruhi finished, and got into the car, and Tamaki wasn't sure if her gaze was avoiding him intentionally or coincidentally. All for the best, when his own was clouding again with tears. Of course, he couldn't tell that hers was, too, tears falling silently down her cheeks, though she kept her head level, her posture strong.

The car was driving away, and Tamaki watched. He watched, slouching, aching to have had something better to say or do or—

What was that?

There.

On the license plate.

A marker of some sort.

A crest, a symbol, a logo, a—

For not the first time in that day, as he recognized it, Tamaki felt like his heart stopped.

Ootori.


	5. Chapter 5

Tamaki could understand Mayumi being upset about the revelation that he had a daughter.

He only wished she hadn't decided to throw things at him.

The blond ducked again, lifting the throw pillow he was using as a makeshift shield as a curling iron whizzed pass his head. How she even got a hold of the curling iron, which was normally in the bathroom, when the argument was in the living room, he had no idea, but he supposed that after different knick-knacks had taken aim at him over the course of the yelling, that she would have to supplement her ammunition from other sources.

"You never told me!"

Third or… seventh? …time she had said that one, and Tamaki desperately tried to repeat his previous response, his voice pleading. "I didn't know! I would've told you if I had known!"

"Well, some gentleman _you've _been," she snapped, and the words stung more than the hairbrush that flung at him next. "And just how many other bastard chil—"

"Don't call her that!" Tamaki couldn't bear to hear Kimiko referred to in such a way; wife or not, she wasn't going to disrespect his daughter. "…And she's the only one. I didn't… I mean…. She's the only one."

"Fine. Fine. Not _her _fault, after all." A book, this time? Where was she even getting these things from? The radius around her seemed empty. "she can't help it if her mom was a slut—"

"DON'T. YOU. **DARE. **CALL. HARUHI. THAT."

It was suddenly quiet after that, the two staring at each other, and the projectiles thankfully halted. Throughout the argument, Tamaki had kept his cool, but something had so easily threatened to snap in him when he heard that. The blond didn't often raise his voice in anger, and never at a woman, but the words he had said last had been sharp, deep and full of a defensive malice that he didn't know he had in him, at least, until they had burst from his mouth.

Now, Mayumi looked hurt, and Tamaki sighed. He really shouldn't be mad at her, of course. All of her aggression at the moment was completely within her rights. He had come home, and, sitting her down and trying to explain it to her easily, slowly, calmly… but it wasn't exactly easy and calm sort of news. He'd never been disloyal to Mayumi—at least, not physically, though his heart had still so often reached out for Haruhi—but still…. to learn that her husband had fathered a child to another woman… Tamaki was lucky she hadn't thrown him out on the spot. Well, technically, it was his house, but she could easily have done so if she tried.

He stood, putting the pillow aside and opening his arms towards her empathically. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled," he said slowly. She only blinked, staring at him with so much… hurt. He tried to give her a little, weak smile. "…Haruhi's engaged. She's marrying another man, and she's happy to just let me _see _Kimiko. And that's all I want." Only half a lie. He still wanted Haruhi, God knew he did, but he couldn't have her. And he was adult enough to realize that. "I'm not… I'm not leaving you, Mayumi. You're my wife. If you'll still keep me."

She stared for another moment, and making only a little "hmmph!" sound, stormed out of the room. Tamaki sighed again, his arms falling limply to his sides. He knew where she had gone; anytime the two of them argued, Mayumi would lock herself up in their room for a little while to cool down, and the familiar door slam told Tamaki that was what was happening now.

He looked around at all of the different things scattered from his wife's rage, and quietly started to pick them up. He wasn't putting anything away, just yet, only getting things off the floor.

He stopped when he picked up the phone, looking at it slowly as though it was some lost and only recently discovered artifact. The pocket of his shirt where Haruhi's contact information sat nearly burned, and Tamaki resigned himself. May as well call her and try to set up time to see Kimiko. No matter what happened with Mayumi once she had calmed down, Tamaki was still going to see his daughter.

He sat on the couch slowly, pulling out the little paper. He stared at the objects in his hand now—the phone and the slip of paper—and tried to gather his courage. So soon after seeing her go, after seeing… the name on that car's insignia…

He took a deep breath and dialed the number.

"Hello, Ootori residence."

Letting out a surprised squeak, Tamaki promptly hung up.

He hadn't expected _Kyoya _to answer the phone. His heart was hammering hard in his chest. And to hear the home called 'Ootori residence…'

Okay. Okay, so they lived together. That made sense. They were engaged, after all. All of his suspicions about just who Haruhi's fiancé was were thereby confirmed, and what did Tamaki do?

He hung up the phone.

The blond made a groan of aggravation, running his own hand over his face and through his hair. This shouldn't be so difficult! Kyoya was his _best friend. _Well, he _had _been, once. Now he was the man who… who… what, exactly? Kyoya was engaged to Haruhi. Kyoya had helped Haruhi through the pregnancy, Tamaki remembered, and had been good to her. Of course, he had. He wasn't a cruel man, despite what his demeanor sometimes showed to those who didn't know him.

"You are married. You are just making this call to talk about your daughter, and you are Kyoya's _friend," _Tamaki chided himself in harsh tones, gathering his courage again.

So time to try for round two.

He dialed the number again, taking slow breaths. He wouldn't hang up so abruptly this time.

"…Tamaki."

Oh. Well, _that _was unexpected. "You… uh…"

"Heard you squeak? Yes, I did."

Tamaki cleared his throat. Kyoya sounded just as cool as ever. _Your friend. This is your friend. _"Ah. Well. Sorry about hanging up earlier, I was startled and there was… yes. Sorry about that. It's… been a while. How are you?"

"No trouble at all. Accidents happen," the even voice replied. "I'm doing well. I suppose you called to speak to Haruhi, though?"

"Yes! I did, uh-!" Tamaki took another breath to calm himself. Here he was, getting all excited again when asking to speak to another man's betrothed… "We met at the market today. She told you?"

Tamaki could practically hear Kyoya's slow nod. "She did. We thought you might be calling some time later today. Let me get her for you," Kyoya went on.

"T-thank you," Tamaki said, leaning back on the couch, holding the piece of paper in his free hand over his eyes as he heard the sound of the phone being put down and a few steps moving away. At least Kyoya had been kind enough to keep things short. Tamaki didn't know how much more shock his heart could take today. He was only 24 years old, sure, but his heart had been through an awful lot in the past twenty-four hours, emotions up and down and back again. It couldn't be healthy.

"Tamaki?"

Just like that, his heart was soaring again. God, what just hearing her voice did to him! He had to get a hold of himself; this was all so beautifully surreal but horrifically complicated.

"Haruhi, yes, it's me."

She chuckled some. Oh, that laugh! "Well, I wouldn't have expected it to have changed into someone else so quickly," she teased, and Tamaki was smiling in spite of himself. "I'm glad you called."

"Mm. Yeah, I um… well, I just finished talking to Mayumi, so…"

"Oh? How'd that go?"

"I've had…. Better conversations."

"Oh. Sorry about that."

"N-no! It's not your fault! It's…" He was sitting up again, holding the phone with both hands now as though it was about to float away. "…It's going to be okay. Eventually. I… um…" He swallowed a lump of nervous energy in his throat. "So. Kyoya, huh?"

"…Yeah," Haruhi answered slowly, and Tamaki could hear her nervousness with the situation. Of course, it wasn't going to be easy for any of them, really. "After… after I found out Kimiko was coming, there was a lot of chaos about everything. Trying to finish school, figuring out hospital and childcare bills. Trying… Trying to contact you—"

"—I'm so sorry."

"—I know. It's okay. Anyway. Kyoya really stepped up to plate. He handled the rumor mill viciously—you know how convincing he can be. He helped when Dad and I were trying to get through things. And then… well, after a little while… Psh, a little while, it _was _a couple years, really…He… proposed. And I was already getting so much help from him, and Dad loves him, and he's been good to Kimiko and me, and…"

"Do you love him?"

Tamaki slapped his own hand over his mouth. That wasn't supposed to come out. It just… did. There was no taking it back now.

There was a moment of hesitation, before Haruhi answered. "A… A charming notion. In its own way," she said, sounding almost _amused, _as if it were some sort of grand joke that Tamaki wasn't in on.

That… settled things, then. Tamaki cleared his throat. "Aaaanyway…" he said, trying to sound cheery, trying to change the subject. "…I was wondering if I might set up a play date with Kimiko? I really want to see her. Do you think I could come over some time, say… tomorrow? If it's not too much trouble." He spoke quickly, hiding his discomfort with the situation with fast words.

"Mhm. That would be fine. Can you stop by at 10?"

"Yes. Yes, I'll be there. And… Haruhi?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

"You're…welcome, Tamaki. Thank you for calling."

There was a click, and Tamaki hung up his end of the phone as well, before he would've heard a dial tone. With a sigh, he let himself fall back into the couch, closing his eyes tight, trying to push back any tears that might try to surface. He was doing a good job of it, this time.

Those eyes did open slowly, however, when he felt hands on his face. Mayumi sat beside him, smiling softly and touching his cheek to garner his attention. He turned his head to look at her. That was… an awfully big smile, for just having an argument. "Hey… You're not mad at me anymore?" he asked, his throat feeling tight.

The redhead shook her head. "No. Actually, I just got off the phone."

Not an unusual matter; there were separate lines throughout the house, and Mayumi was quick to call her mother to vent about things if need be. Tamaki reached over, gently touching the back of her hand. "Oh? Everything okay? How is Mai?"

Mayumi giggled, and Tamaki couldn't help being a bit… unnerved by the situation. "I didn't call my mother. Actually, _I received _a call. From the doctor's office."

Tamaki's eyes widened, and he sat up, primarily alarmed. "From the doctor? What's wrong? Are you okay?" he said, looking over her as if something would make itself known through sight alone. He may not be in love with Mayumi, but he wasn't an uncaring man, and he didn't want to hear she was sick-!

Mayumi giggled again, catching one of his hands in her own. Tamaki could feel his own heart beating loudly in his ears as she moved his hand down. She placed his fingers, shaking, atop her stomach, looking up at him with a knowing smile.

"Nothing's _wrong_."

Oh. Oh, God.

"I'm not really so upset about the girl…"

Please. Please, no.

"…because now…"

Stop the train. Tamaki wants off.

"…we'll have our own little boy or girl, soon."


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: **First of all, thank you soooo much everyone for views and reviews. I write faster with feedback, so keep it coming! A couple points: yeah, Mayumi isn't exactly made to be a likable character, though I'm not trying to make her _completely _unsympathetic either. I need to use her more later. You'll see.

Anyway, this chapter has a little less angst to deal with, though there will also be more feelings things and some cool bro-ness between two of my favorite boys and some papa-daughter-time which is cuuuute. This is also one of my longer chapters.

Please keep leaving reviews or comments, and more specific, if you can-you could help me to write faster with the right encouragement.

Anyway, on to the story.

**-oOo-**

"Oh? Really? We like the purple one?"

"Mhm. Like Papa's eyes!"

Tamaki couldn't help chuckling as Kimiko was wrapping a boa around his neck. The morning had gone a lot smoother than he had thought it would. The girl was running back and forth in excitement around the room. A wide, round room, Kimiko had basically taken over with her toys and things, and she had decided that today, Tamaki was not just 'papa' but personal dress-up toy.

Not that the blond minded at all. He had told Haruhi the news about Mayumi—she _had _to know, really, especially after their conversation prior. Once again, Tamaki had trouble reading Haruhi's reactions, but the brunette had reacted as calmly as ever.

"You…" And a soft smile had graced her features, and even though Tamaki was fighting a war in his heart, he had been soothed by that so beautiful smile. "…Well. If you need any advice or anything, have her call me. Congratulations."

And that had been the end of that.

Kimiko had been so excited about Tamaki's visit, and had spent the first hour giving him a tour of her favorite things in the house. He had nearly melted when she had grabbed his hand, having to stoop so she could tug him around. Then once in the playroom, she had decided it was a fine time for a fancy tea party. And who was Tamaki to refuse? Especially once the little girl had plopped a toy crown on his head and started calling him the "King." It was all too familiar, that title, and then having Kimiko dub herself the princess… Tamaki was putty in her hands, and didn't complain one bit about the various "jewels" (plastic) she draped onto him, about the nail polish she had messily slopped on his nails (a bright pink), or about the feather boas she was now draping around his shoulders. Of course, he held the tea cup as perfectly as she had dreamed, and Kimiko had squealed with delight when Tamaki didn't need to be reminded about lifted pinkies.

"You seem to like putting me in purple," he went on, chuckling some.

"It's _royal," _the girl answered, rolling her eyes so much like her mother, then taking a protracted sip of her imaginary tea. "See? It's on your hat, too. Cuz you're the king~."

"Oh Lord, not that again." Tamaki turned some in his chair towards the door when he heard Haruhi come back in, not losing his smile for one moment. The love of his life—which she still was, no matter what was happening between them and the rest of the world—had been fussing from one room to the next for a large portion of the playdate, cleaning or answering phone calls or working at her desk, and had only just stepped into the room for a moment. Tamaki was glad that the playdate was not only a chance for him to see Kimiko, but a chance for Haruhi to have her hands free for a little while. It was already easy to establish that Haruhi wasn't a fan of leaving their daughter with maids while she worked all the time, so Tamaki was all too happy to help her. "Don't call your father 'King' too much or he'll never stop," she went on, though a little smile towards the blond showed she wasn't _really _mad.

The mother went to the girl's side, kneeling down to kiss her forehead, and staying down at that level while she looked up towards Tamaki. "I hate to do this to you—"

"I don't mind!" the new father excitedly chirped. "I love spending time with my little princess, don't I, Kimi-chan?" He looked down at the girl, who giggled in response, nodding enthusiastically.

Haruhi continued to smile, but shook her head. "No, I mean… I have to go out for a little while." Tamaki tilted his head to the side as she explained further. "…I have a call from one of my clients. She was looking at options in a custody dispute, actually, but her ex-husband just tried to make a move out of the country." Tamaki's eyes widened, but Haruhi didn't seem too worried. "It's not too big a deal, he just was supposed to add this information to some of the forms for the case so the judge could take it into consideration… and he didn't. But I have to have an impromptu meeting with my client to discuss it." Her eyes darted to their daughter—the younger girl not seeming to understand her mother's words one bit, preoccupying herself with fixing her plastic tiara—and back to the blond. "Do you think you can…?"

Tamaki practically leapt over the table when he leaned forward, nodding excitedly. "Oh, Haruhi, can I stay and watch Kimiko, pleeeeeaaaaase?" he whined preemptively, clasping his hands together in a pleading motion. "I know I don't _exactly _know what I'm doing yet but I really want to learn, I want to be there for her—" _…And you… _"—and I already okayed the whole day with Mayumi and—"

"Alright."

Tamaki squealed a little. "Oh, thank you—"

"…But Kyoya will be here, too." Tamaki blinked, but said nothing, as the woman explained a little more. "He knows Kimiko's quirks and all, and he has emergency contact information, and he knows her schedule." The woman checked her watch. "…I don't know how long the meeting will take, but Kimiko will be going down for a nap soon."

A quick glance at the girl clarified Haruhi's last statement; Kimiko's violet-blue eyes _were _shaded with drooping lids at the moment.

Tamaki offered one of his winning smiles. Oh, if only such a smile could win _Haruhi _back into his arms… but it was not to be. "That makes sense! And it'll be fine! I can spend some time catching up with Kyoya, too!" That was true… Tamaki did want to reunite with his friend. Things were so complicated, but the glasses-wearing male had been his best friend before. If Tamaki couldn't be with the woman of his dreams, at least he could see she was taken care of by a man who was, beneath a sometimes cool exterior, a good person.

Haruhi breathed a little sigh of relief, glad that everything was going so surprisingly smoothly. "Alright." She turned to Kimiko, giving her a kiss on the cheek. "I'll be back in a little while, baby. Papa is going to stay and help Uncle Kyoya put you down for naptime, alright? You'll be a good girl, won't you?"

Kimiko nodded, interrupted by a small yawn. "I always am, Mama!" she said, drowsy but still brimming with excitement from the day she had spent so far with her father. She looked back to the blond then. "Papa, can I have a story and cuddles, too?"

There was Tamaki melting to her will again, so easily. "Of course, ma petite~. I don't mind at all," he said softly.

"I'll be back maybe before you wake up from your nap," Haruhi promised, giving the girl a hug before standing again and allowing her attention to glance back at her once-upon-a-time lover. "Thank you, Tamaki. I'll be back soon enough."

Waving just a little, Tamaki turned in his seat to watch her go. As he did, he spotted Kyoya waiting in the doorway, eyes hidden in that familiar way by the shine of his glasses. "Oh, Kyoya! It's good to—" the blond started, then stopped as that other man leaned forward to press a quick kiss to Haruhi's cheek.

Tamaki felt as though his heart had leaped up into his throat, but thankfully, he kept his composure. He would just have to get used to it, he supposed, though he didn't think it was something he was going to get used to right away. Haruhi must've understood that, because the woman muttered something softly towards her fiancé, and Kyoya nodded solemnly in response. Another few quiet words between the two, and Haruhi was gone, off to see to the meeting.

Kyoya turned back to Tamaki, his hands so casually in his pockets, one eyebrow quirked up high on his forehead. "So. You're staying for the day? Do you plan on being dressed like that the entire time?"

Tamaki blinked a moment, then regained most of his composure and returned to smiling, unable to keep from doing so once he remembered what he was wearing. He looked down at himself as if noticing Kimiko's dress-up job for the first time, then laughed before posing, one hand behind his head as he closed his eyes dramatically. "I don't know! I think I look pretty good!" he said, then turned back to his daughter with a questioning look. "Kimi-chan, what would you like? Do you want me to stay dressed up?"

The girl stared a moment, a more serious look that was so reminiscent of her mother, before shaking her head and folding her arms. "No. Not for stories and cuddles," she decided firmly.

Tamaki folded his own palms together, giving the girl a little bow of thanks. "As you wish, my princess," he said, then was getting to his feet, removing the boas and curling them into a bundle beside the teaset. He went over to his daughter, putting a palm out towards her, which she immediately took with a tired giggle. "We should clean up your toys first, don't you think?"

With a little bit of advice from an overlooking Kyoya, Tamaki helped Kimiko put most of the things away. It was strange how it felt to be near the other male again; a part of Tamaki was a little bitter about the loss of Haruhi, and yet… another part of the blond knew that at least Haruhi was in good hands, and Kimiko, and… Kyoya had always been important to Tamaki, too. It really meant a lot, that the brunet was keeping so cool about the entire ordeal, too. ….Well, alright, Kyoya was good at keeping cool about most things, but that was beside the point.

Tamaki made a mental note of the time as they were finishing with clean-up, wanting to remember roughly what time was Kimiko's naptime, in the event he ever would have her all to himself for a day. That thought sent his heart fluttering. To think, someday he'd be able to spend the whole day with his daughter, would be able to know her moods and routines and share little secrets with her…

He lifted the girl up onto his hip just as she yawned long and slow. The girl almost instinctively wrapped her small arms around his shoulders, resting her cheek against his chest and closing her eyes. Tamaki's own expression softened, and he placed a loving kiss to her forehead before looking towards Kyoya. "Ah… her room is…?" he started.

The brunet clearly understood, giving a small come-along gesture as he led the way. "When she's wearing a dress, she can nap in that, like a nightgown," he was explaining. "But if she takes her nap with pants on, she gets uncomfortable and wakes up cranky."

"Oh…I see," Tamaki murmured, committing the knowledge to memory as he was gently putting the girl into her bed. Kimiko hugged just a little tighter for a minute.

"Papa… don't go away," she whispered drowsily.

As if he could ever leave her, once he had found her! He smoothed her bangs back from her forehead before tucking her blankets gently around her. "I won't, ma cherie. I'll be here when you wake up, promise. And if I ever do go, it will only be for a very little while."

"Promise?"

"I swear by it." He gave her another kiss on the same spot, comfortably sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Did you still want a story, Kimi-chan?" Kyoya was asking. The other male had moved to sit on the opposite side of the bed, and Tamaki couldn't help feeling a little… proud, of his friend, for showing this so-gentle side when the girl was concerned. "Issunboushi? Tsurunoongaeshi?" The man was closer to the bookshelf, and ran a hand over some of the spines of the several children's stories there.

Kimiko yawned again, looking thoughtful a moment before looking back to her father. "Papa… Can you make one up for me?"

Tamaki smiled, his eyes sparkling, and Kyoya couldn't help rolling his own eyes at the former Host King's excitement. "Oh, Kimiko! I'd love to!"

"Don't tell her anything _too _exciting," Kyoya cautioned, adjusting his glasses a bit. "A _bedtime _story, Tamaki."

"Right, right, I know," the blond replied, waving a hand to the so-obvious statement. "What sort of story would you like?"

Another moment of quiet, before: "Tell me a story about you and Mama."

Tamaki couldn't help the red that filled his features at his daughter's topic choice. "Ah… Kimi, I don't know if that's entirely appropri…"

"It's fine, Tamaki. You go ahead," Kyoya quickly filled in. The blond looked to his friend, and was thankful to see an understanding look. "Haruhi has told her a little about how you two met. You can tell it from your side of the story."

Kimiko nodded excitedly. "Yeah, I love that story! And…" Another yawn, and the girl scooted down some in her blankets to get a little more comfortable. "…Uncle Kyoya's in there, too."

Taking a slow breath and giving another little nod, Tamaki smiled. "Alright… I can do that…

Once upon a time, I had helped start this wonderful thing called the Host Club…"

It had been so long since Tamaki took the time to remember the entire story, and his heart ached with nostalgia as he spoke, and his voice trembled as he specifically recalled things about Haruhi… about when he had first met her.

"And so… I was a little confused because I didn't think I could feel that way about someone before… before your mama. And I didn't know what to call it. She just… she made me so…"

"Tamaki."

The interruption from Kyoya was needed, mostly to kick Tamaki out of the memories. The blond blinked back to reality, noticing that Kimiko was asleep. He blushed with some embarrassment. "Sorry…. I guess I just kept talking," he apologized, running a hand over his own face. Was that… had he cried…? He wasn't sure. He couldn't remember actually telling the story, only feeling like he had sort of been reliving it.

Again he leaned forward, placing a soft kiss to the now-sleeping child's cheek before taking a breath and getting to his feet. He walked from the room, wiping at his eyes a little, still trying to figure out if he had actually cried or if his eyes were maybe just watering a little. He stopped in the hallway when he heard the door gently click shut behind him.

"…Are you going to be alright, Tamaki?"

The blond turned on his heels, blinking as he looked at the brunet who now stood in front of the door. It was… weird, seeing Kyoya giving him that genuinely caring smile. He had that smile so rarely, and even rarer still gave it towards Tamaki. "I…Um. Hm."

Kyoya sighed, taking a couple non-threatening steps towards the other, his arms crossed over his chest. "You're… not yourself," he started to say, and Tamaki turned away, but kept quiet as Kyoya continued to speak. "Since you've reconnected. Sometimes it's there. When you're talking with Kimiko, playing with her, or when you're talking alone with Haruhi." The blond glanced over his shoulder, and Kyoya shook his head. "No, no, I haven't been eavesdropping. That would be rude. But it's easy to see. You're not yourself all those other times. And Haruhi noticed it, too. She spoke to me about it. Your…" He paused, trying to figure the best wording. "…Your wife is expecting, isn't she?"

There was Kyoya again, being the good friend that the Ootori hardly realized he could be. Tamaki gave him a weak smile. "Ah… yes. Mayumi just told me about it yesterday. It was a surprise. We weren't… trying."

"I see…" Kyoya chimed, then sighed. "Tamaki, I'll be blunt and straight to the point. Haruhi was under the impression that your wife was… not wanting to give you an heir. That maybe she wasn't happy about the situation with Kimiko, once she found out, and now…"

Tamaki shook his head, laughing morosely. "Oh no. Mayumi just... she was scared about having a baby, I think. She was always worried that she'd gain so much weight that I'd leave her… She didn't have a very good childhood, you see…" Added to that was another wave of his hand. "And don't worry about being blunt. You wouldn't be you if you weren't."

Kyoya adjusted his glasses again. "Taking that word to good faith, I'll continue to be straightforward with you," he said, the corner of his lips giving the smallest of a smile that Tamaki couldn't help returning. "And continuing on that line of thought: wasn't your grandmother… _wanting _an heir, specifically?"

Ah, how well Kyoya was at reading him. "That was why you were always the vice-president. You always managed to figure everything out," the blond sighed, shaking his head. "Yes, grandmother wanted me to marry into another respectful family and to work on heirs. I guess she didn't get exactly what she planned on…. In the beginning. Now…"

Kyoya glanced off to the side, appearing to show some interest in a wall tapestry. "That's so like plans of the parents, isn't it? Arranging the marriages of convenience or status."

That comment brought Tamaki's attention a little more towards the darker-haired male. "Convenience or…." he murmured, then, more solidly: "Kyoya… Do you love Haruhi?"

He had asked Haruhi the question in reverse just a little while before, but somehow, asking Kyoya, asking the first true friend he had made when he had moved to Japan so many years ago… That was easier. Still, there was a moment of quiet.

Kyoya's response was quiet, but still all too easy to hear. "Tamaki. Every single member of the Host Club fell in love with Haruhi sooner or later."

The sentence should have hurt, perhaps, but Tamaki couldn't help a tiny chuckle escaping his lips. "Yes…. I suppose you're right. It's difficult not to."

At that, Kyoya gave a little laugh of his own, and all of a sudden, things seemed so much more at ease between the two of them. Women and marriages and children aside, they were just two friends again, picking up right where they had left off. Tamaki went to his friend's side and put an arm over his shoulders in a friendly manner. The darker-haired male feigned offense, but smiled a little nonetheless. "She's quite an intriguing person. My father was actually advising me to propose much sooner," Kyoya explained as the two walked towards the sitting room.

"Really?" the blond blinked, tilting his head to the side as he let go, walking backwards a couple steps before moving to sit on one of the couches. "Well, I mean, you had already done so much to help with Kimiko… And thank you, for that…"

Kyoya held up a hand to stop his friend's speech. "I wasn't the only one, just the most organized and represented. All of the other Host Club members pitched in to handle things, but since I had connections for the medical matters, it made most sense. And adding in that my father was trying to persuade a marriage… it made sense." He took off his glasses for a moment, pulling a small cloth from a pocket and cleaning the lenses absentmindedly. "On that note… When you speak with the other former members—which I know you will—be prepared for a possible display of violence from Hikaru. Just as a forewarning."

Tamaki winced. "Aaah…. Good point. I'll do that. Thanks."

A welcome surprise, the conversation was going well, calm and friendly and full of laughter as Kimiko was finishing her nap. The two men had been chatting maybe an hour as the door opened, Haruhi coming in with a victorious smile. The two turned to greet her with smiles of their own. "I take it the meeting went well?" Kyoya asked, reclining in a chair now, his legs crossed comfortably.

"Yes, actually, the two still agree rather well and—" Haruhi stopped, looking from one to the other, gathering the image of their smiles and the general calm feelings in the room. "Are… you two okay?"

"Of course! Why wouldn't we be?" Tamaki cooed, his heart clenching a little…. But only just a little. Maybe things really were getting better, or at least, more routine. "We _are _best of friends, Haruhi, surely you remember that~"

The woman shook her head, but smiled. "…Good. Good. I'm glad," she said, moving to take her own seat on the other end of the couch from Tamaki, fumbling with a few papers in her briefcase. Tamaki couldn't help his eyes following her as she did… The business attire looked so perfect on her, the garb of her profession, of her successful career dreams.

There was a little sound of shuffling and a door clicking open from another part of the house, and the three adults exchanged a few glances before a little voice rang out with "Uncle Kyo….? Uncle Kyo, c'mere…?"

The dark-haired male smiled and took to his feet. "I'll give the two of you a moment," he saidto excuse himself.

Tamaki looked back to Haruhi once he left the room, and the woman tucked a strand of brown hair behind her ear. "Kimiko does that after naps. She clings for _one person _in particular. No real reason, just needs one person specifically. It's different each time. Once, it was dad, when he was several countries away and… well, needless to say, she was a little disappointed. We showed her some pictures though, that time."

"Has she ever…?" Tamaki fiddled with his hands in his lap, not sure how to word his question, but it seemed that Haruhi once again picked up the slack.

"…She's asked for you before, yes. But we only had pictures. Now…"

"If she ever asks for me now, I'll be there, I swear."

Haruhi looked to him with a sigh, setting her briefcase aside. "I know you will, Tamaki."

There was another small and sort of awkward moment of silence between them, but at least this time, a smile passed in that same span of time from one to the other. "Haruhi," Tamaki finally started, gathering his courage. "I… If I had a chance to change things… If I could…"

Haruhi nodded. "I know. I know." The brunette sighed, then reached and took the other's hand in hers, making his breath slip away in a sigh of his own. "I gave her your last name, you know. Officially, on the birth certificate. She's Kimiko Suoh."

"Thank you. Thank you, Haruhi, for that."


End file.
